Battleship Destroyer (22 page)

H
e started to walk into the tank and then stopped just inside it as he turned on his head lamp that disappeared into the dark distance. After a few minutes of standing alone in the huge empty tank as the hatch continued to open with nothing to do but stand there on the wet deck, Jack turned around and walked back out and over to his vacuum cart, he put on his helmet and drove into the tank. The crew that usually worked with him followed him as the rest went back to playing the game. He raised the light tower to some 20 feet above his cart, lighting up the vast interior of the tank.

With
only one vacuum cart sucking out the seams between the removable deck plates  and a half dozen crewmen working pushing squeegees of water into the drains and the rest just standing around watching or tossing the sac up and around again, Jack knew it was going to take well past chow to finish. Jack finally stopped to take a break, turned the suction vacuum off for some peace and quiet as he stretched. The squeaks from the few crewmen squeegeeing the deck and their footsteps echoing around the tank were drowned out as a good sized hacky sack game was again going inside the tank. Jack turned to the other 3rd class of the detail who usually ran the other cart as the sack was finally dropped leaving the other 3rd class standing around for a few second. Jack took several deep breaths as he worked up his nerve. "You...” His voice started to squeak. Taking another deep breath he tried again, trying to be careful to control his voice. "You." The guy's name fled his mind, “Could get the other cart in here. Things would go a lot faster. We, could get out of here by dinner and not have to come back."

Catching his breath he waited for the man to tell him to go screw himself.
A normal consequence when he had asked for help on the Turner Joy especially if his brother was around. When the man turned and left the tank to return a few seconds later with the other cart and started where jack had left off. Jack could not believe it. In shock he watched the other cart for several minutes with his mouth hanging open. Finally Jack started running his cart again then after a few passes he went over to the group of goofing off crewmen and the hacky sack game and stopped next to them accidentally getting in their way stopping the game.

Suddenly
scared breathless expecting a deluge of name calling and even an attack. He killed the cart trying to jam it into reverse and then froze knowing it was too late to unbuckle his seat belt to run. Resigning himself to the inevitable he waited. And waited as they just looked at him. No one said a word or tried to retrieve the sac he had run over. Swallowing several times over what seemed like forever to him, he finally sheepishly smiled.  "Come on guys, you don't really want to spend all night here do you? Chow is in another hour." Jack sat there afraid to move but finally reached down and started the cart back up as one of them and then another quickly followed by the rest headed for the pile of squeegees laying where they had been thrown.

An officer sitting
at a desk watched her screen smiled as the tank clean out crew went to work. After the major breakthrough of Jack actually opening the tank on his own, (though it had taken him long enough to even try), she had half expected (feared), Jack to try doing the whole tank on his own. He successfully asking the rest of the crew to help was a major accomplishment.

With the red flag on his file directing everything
about as well as to and from him, to her desk. She had held his first letter from home for several weeks and then deleted almost half of what his brother had included (after the rest of the family had said their parts), as to damn damaging with its ranting’s and threats from his brother. Leaving enough from his brother for Jack to get what a lying asshole he was without the belittling names and threats, including things his parents supposedly had said. It left a jerky video but she had deliberate added to the incompetent editing job to show Jack what a stupid buffoon his brother really was. Then written a personal letter to Jack’s parents asking for their help while sending the original part of his brothers section of the family letter as an attachment. Informing them that a similar letter from their oldest son would get him arrested for interfering and threatening an enlisted crewman. She would see to it that he spent a very long time in prison.

She
had held this last letter from home just for this instance when he was facing a dead line in the hope it would push him into acting. Even if it took the whole night for him to act. To doing something even if it had been wrong or half-baked or in desperation.

She
now had two officers acting as crewmen along with the First class, all trained in how to handle any situation that could come up. No matter what he did, it had to look and end in success without any bad consequences for the kid. Then after all her hours of preparation and pulling rank and favors, he does everything perfectly without having to use any of her backups. But then her crew had played their parts to perfection. The first class using the perfect words to make him act without giving him a direct order. Then the others giving just enough resistance, then support and then squelching any derogatory names from the known trouble makers as they shepherd the crew to comply. In time he would learn to ignore or turn descent to his advantage but for now they had to be careful.

She didn’t know why she had decided to put all the effort into the boy
. But she knew after looking at his records, finding out who his grandfather was, his off the chart IQ and military ratings that the war could very well depend on the boy.  If she could repair even half of the damage. All she knew for sure was that if she did not even try, there was no way he would ever be able to make a contribution to the war. Whether he ever did or not did not matter.

The next day Jack opened the hatch as soon as they walked onto the grate from the elevator platform after seeing the tank number on the daily assignment board during muster.
Most of the crew had not yet made it up, nor was the first class anywhere to be seen. They got done early that day after doing both tanks with the 1st Class finally showing up to pass out as usual.

From then on the First Class rarely
even showed up. Telling Jack after the morning muster what tanks needed cleaning even though Jack could see them on the board until he stopped even showing up at muster. Weeks passed as Jack settled into his new role. At first hints and suggestions worked getting the tanks cleaned, but eventually the crew started getting lazier and lazier over the weeks. Then one day, after delaying Jacks study time again by not even entering the tank as they played outside in spite of his vague suggestion that chow was in a couple hours, he became desperate.

Stopping the cart next to the two guys leaning against the bulkhead talking
, he sat looking at them as they ignored him. Not wanting to be impolite he waited for a break in the conversation but neither stopped talking long enough to get a word in edgewise. After several minutes with Jack getting more exasperated by the second he finally said. "Ok, Guys." They continued to talk. "Guys." He said a little louder and was still ignored. Taking a deep breath. "Ok guys, don't you think it is time to go to work?"

The
y stopped talking and looked at Jack for a few seconds irritated and then one of them smiled. "Why sure Turner. Why not?" They went over and grabbed a squeegee and got to work. If what they were doing could be called work but at least they were doing something but standing around just talking. Though they seemed to talk enough while they worked making Jack wonder why they thought they had to stop to talk in the first place.

Direct r
equests worked great for about a week and then a big man nicknamed Bigfoot by the rest of the crew said. "Naw, I don't think so. Maybe later."  It did not take long before half the crew was again spending most of their time goofing off as the rest did most of the work, making the days get longer and longer.

Walking up to
the tank hatch early one morning Jack opened it then turning around to watch a half awake game of hackysac, shaking his head in disbelief.  He had spent half the night at battle stations doing drills then his regular watch with only a couple hours of sleep, Jack was pissed off with himself to start with for failing a pretest the evening before and was not looking forward to spending the next 3 months doing the class work he did not have time for thanks to the crew already goofing off that had prevented him from studying in the first place. He could not see things getting any easier ever, pissing him off even more.

Without thinking
, with his head splitting in the front lob to his neck, Jack walked into the circle as his blood boiled with disgust. The bag sailed arcing down toward the guy he was walking by. Jack automatically reached out and grabbed it as the guys foot kicked up toward it and missed, lost his balance and fell backwards to the deck.

Walking out into the
middle of the circle as Bigfoot yelled. "What the hell do you think…?”

Jack took a deep breath. "
Get your fucking ass holes in that tank to work now!" Then threw the sac off the gratings into the middle of the pipe chase where it hit a pipe and disappeared down into the shaft. It was a court martial offense to throw anything down the pipe chase shaft. Not thinking, Jack had just wanted to get rid of what had become to him the symbol of them goofing off and him failing his test.

"
Hey asshole that was my sac and it is a mile down to the bottom."

Rubbing his aching temples he looked up into
Bigfoots eyes reminding him of one of his brothers friends who used to take pleasure in torturing him with his brother looking on. "No, closer to two. So what, you want to follow it down pukeface?" A line his brother used to use on him all the time suddenly popped out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Get your butt to work before I write your sorry ass up for disobeying fucking orders."

The crews beat him into the tank for the first time ever and he didn’t' have a problem with them the rest of the day. Getting the second tank done shortly after lunch after giving them a half dozen additional orders mostly to go back to work after breaks and lunch and cleaning up the tools at the end of the last
tank and then the last order of the day, ordering them to knock off early getting a cheer from most of them except Bigfoot as they tried to beat each other out of their tool compartment.

After the shock of the men actually doing what he had ordered them to do
had worn off and settled in. Jack stopped pleading with them each time something had to be done. Knowing that the faster they got the tank dried out the sooner he could go back to studying. Even then he spent most of his time disgusted at how slow things started going again as most of the men were in no hurry and simply followed orders but at least they were getting done before the normal shift was over allowing him to study.

A month later the division Chief pulled Jack aside after muster.  Looking at him he shook his head frowning.  "Look here Turner. I can't have a Third class running a tank cleanout crew." Handing him a sheet. "This is the Second Class test. Take it and hand it in
to me when you are done."

Jack looked at it as he took it from the Chief. "Ah Chief; I don't understand. Am I
supposed to take this to the training department office to take? Why not just tell me to go."

The Chief gave Jack a sorry impatient look. "We don't expect a Second Class to know and remember everything but we expect him to know where to find what he needs to know and use it." Shaking his head again. "It is an open book test
. You will probably have to go over half the ship to find the answers. The same will be for the first class test eventually. I expect you to hand it in within a week and your pay increase will start the week after that. Now get back to work." The Chief turned to leave then turned back. "Oh Turner, since you are doing such a good job, I am assigning you 3 tanks from now on.  Keep up the good work."

Jack
stared at the Chief as he walked off. "How the hell am I supposed to do a third tank, study for my class pretests and take a frigging Second class test at the same time?" Jack said to himself as he looked up the miles long pipe chase though the Chief ignoring him anyway, disappeared into the side compartment hatch leading out of the lowest deck of the pipe chasse running up the center of the ship.

It took him
until dinner call that day to get the third tank done. The next day exasperated with how long the first tank was taking he started paying more attention to the crews and how they were working. Realizing real quickly that most were simply going through the motions and not very helpful motions to begin with. After trying suggestions a couple of times Jack finally gave up when the guy simply looked at him and continued with what he was doing. Taking the squeegee from him Jack showed him how to use it the way some of the others were using it to good effect and said. "Now do it right ass hole. I want to get out of here at a decent hour today." His voice echoed across the tank. He spent the rest of the day riding half the crew’s asses but they got even the third tank done in plenty of time.

He managed to hand the 2nd class test
to the Chief a week later with bags under his eyes not believing he even managed to pass the latest class pretest with a 96 the evening before. The fact that he had seen sections of the ship he had never been in before was a consolation prize he had found entertaining though tiring. He was surprised the next day when the First Class handed him a set of Second Class stripes. Shaking his hand and slapping him on the back in front of the men and women at muster. Then later offered him a drink to celebrate as he handed him the First Class Test.